


Get up. Please.

by orphan_account



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Is this a drabble?, M/M, can be read as platonic or romantic, i blame vav she gave me this idea shes a bad influence, its under 1k so fuck it im callin it a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Wake up.” Felix snarls, throwing Locus’ gun into his lap. Locus jostles a bit, but otherwise doesn’t respond. “I told you we’d make it.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get up. Please.

**Author's Note:**

> okay i need to stop writing things at 2am but fine here we go

The plane crashes into the temple, but Felix laughs in triumph at the fact they’ve managed to land at all given how damaged the ship is. He climbs out of his seat and grabs Locus, who had fallen unconscious during the flight, carrying him out and settling him upright against a nearby wall. Locus groans in pain, and slouches over a bit. 

Felix can’t spare a thought to worry about Locus right now though. His own injuries scream at him, his body telling him to just give up- to leave and find somewhere to rest. And he wants to- is so tempted to just hop back in his ship and fly away and find a place where he can fix Locus and himself up. But he can’t. Not yet.

Not until those multicolored  _idiots_  see the business end of either a gun or his sword.

Speaking of. Felix walks back over to the ship to grab their weapons. They’re low on ammo, and a quick investigation shows there’s no med-packs on board either. Great. He nearly screams in frustration, but instead just grabs his sword, Locus’ gun, and holsters his own. 

Breathing heavily, he stomps over to Locus, who is still out cold. “Wake up.” Felix snarls, throwing Locus’ gun into his lap. Locus jostles a bit, but otherwise doesn’t respond. “I told you we’d make it.” He walks ahead a bit and activates his sword. “Run your camo, and stick to the shadows. I’ll draw them out.” Felix waits for a response, but there is none. He growls in frustration, and turns back to Locus, kicking his leg. “Locus! Get up. You can sleep when you’re dead, but for now we have business to take care of.” Still nothing. He bends down, and begins to shake Locus’ shoulder. “Locus, get up! That’s an order!” 

Felix is becoming slightly hysterical, and he grips Locus’ shoulders so hard he thinks the armor is going to break. “Wake up damn it!  _Locus! Get. The fuck. Up.”_  He shakes and shakes, willing Locus to do something, to slap his hands away, to yell at him,  _something._  But Locus is like a ragdoll, and Felix doesn’t see his chest rising and falling, hears noting but absolute silence over their comm; there’s not even a quiet inhale or exhale to reassure him that yes, Locus is fine, he’s just asleep. “Locus. Please.”

Felix tears off Locus’ helmet and checks for a pulse, his fingers shaking as they press against his partner’s neck. But there’s nothing. Locus is dead.

_And it’s their fault._

Felix gives himself a moment to grieve. To let his loss consume him and the tears fall freely. But when the moment passes, he replaces Locus’ helmet and stands.  He takes his sadness, his pain, and channels it. Channels it into his already burning anger until he sees nothing but red and is craving blood. He leaves Locus’ body behind, doesn’t spare him another glance as he goes to fight. 

Instead he throws all his anger and pain and anguish at the Reds and Blues. Because Locus’ death is on their hands, and he’d rather die than let them get away with it.

**Author's Note:**

> got a prompt for me? send it my way at either agenderjetstar.tumblr.com or themadwarriormogar.tumblr.com


End file.
